


Holding The Hand That Holds Me Down

by thisismy_design (thisismydesignn)



Category: The Following
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 15:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisismydesignn/pseuds/thisismy_design
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We're under the sheets and you're killing me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding The Hand That Holds Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> So much for not writing about these characters until we learn more, eh? Just can't get them out of my head.
> 
> Title from Breaking Benjamin's "Without You." Summary from Ellie Goulding's "Under The Sheets."

Jacob lets Emma pull him into bed, lets her push him down and take what they’ve missed for so long—and he has missed her, he _has—_ but he leaves the door open behind them, like an invitation, like a promise, like the words he’d whispered to Paul so many nights were true.

_They were,_ he thinks, but he chases honesty away with Emma’s grip on his wrists, her teeth on his skin, thinks, _this is what I want,_ doesn’t wonder _is it enough._

(Emma’s not sure if the open door is a challenge or a threat; she imagines Paul’s lips on hers, on _Jacob’s,_ and kisses hard enough to draw blood, torn between death and desire.)

\---

Paul drinks until he can’t see straight, then drinks some more; every breath feels like he’s drowning, and when his glass shatters across the kitchen floor he hardly notices the blood that drips from his fingertips. The house stays silent, his ragged heartbeat the only sound in the darkness.

\---

He’s just charming enough to coax the girl into coming home with him; the flash of a smile, glint in his eye, effortlessly captivating, _(barely holding it together)_. It doesn’t take much to get her into bed, clothes off, guard down, and she never even has the chance to scream.

That’s how Jacob finds him, bloodstained sheets growing stiff to the touch, hands red, clothes ruined. Finally, _finally_ he feels like he can breathe again, and he presses Jacob into the corner, kisses him hard, takes back what’s his. He’s missed those moans, the way Jacob’s breath catches in his throat as Paul digs bruises into his hips, drags his jeans open and remembers every touch, every taste.

Emma watches from the door as Jacob lets himself be led back toward the bed, fingers tangling in the wrecked sheets with a gasp like he’s only now remembering—

But he grips tighter, pulls Paul closer, and Emma’s nails dig crescents into the palm of her hand.

Hungry for love, for blood, and she’s no longer sure which is which. This time, _this time_ she’ll clean up their mess, hold her tongue, but the walls of this house may as well be made of glass, and she won’t let herself be caught beneath the shards when they start to fall.


End file.
